


Cooking By The Book

by Zeiskyte



Series: Soft Goro Week 2020 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, SoftGoroWeek2020, You BET I listened to Cooking By The Book the entire time writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeiskyte/pseuds/Zeiskyte
Summary: If Goro hadn't thought Akira insane before, he surely was now. "So you carried," he gestured at the load of things in Akira's arms, "all of that... for the entire twenty minute train ride?"The raven-haired boy placed all of his things down onto Goro's coffee table, and now that it was all laid out before him, Goro began to piece together what the supplies were for. "... You're baking a cake?""No," Akira turned to him, and his smirk screamedJoker, "we'rebaking a cake."Written for #SoftGoroWeek2020 Day 2: Coffee and Sweets!
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Soft Goro Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877380
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54
Collections: Day 2 - Coffee and Sweets





	Cooking By The Book

**Author's Note:**

> The doc for this fic is really saved to my computer as "it's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake WHAT.rtf"

When there was a knock on his door, Goro pulled his blankets over his head and buried himself further into his cocoon. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his landlady today, or _any time_ for that matter. Just the thought of maintaining perfect posture and keeping a smile on his face made him sick to his stomach.

Something hit his door, and Goro would be pushing it if he classified that as a knock. It sounded more like a raccoon was throwing its body against his door. From his position on his futon, he moved his blankets to glance at the digital alarm clock on his table and - it was 10:33 in the morning, so there was certainly no raccoon at his door.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Goro squeezed his eyes shut and curled up under his blankets. It was obviously a person, so why the hell had he even considered the possibility of-

"Goro," the person on the other side of the door called, low voice muffled by the wood, "please open the door, my hands are full."

 _Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away_. Goro kept his eyes closed and covered himself completely with his blankets.

"Goroooooooo," _bang bang bang_. "I know you're in there, you know..."

_No you don't, Akira. I could have taken the first train out of Tokyo this morning and you wouldn't have known._

Akira sighed, and with the quiet _thud_ against the door, Goro imagined the boy letting his head fall and hit the wood. "Don't make me pick your lock."

Goro took in a deep breath, clenched his hands into fists, and pushed himself up. " _Fine_ ," he huffed, shrugging off his blankets, "I'm only letting you in because I don't need my landlady chiding me for property damage."

"I would have said that five minutes ago if I knew that would get you up." Going by Akira's bright tone, Goro could imagine his relieved smile. "I hope you aren't busy for the next hour or two."

Making his way to the door, Goro felt uncertainty creeping through his veins. "Akira," he began warily, "what are you planning on doing?"

"Open the door and you'll find out."

Hearing the teasing tone in Akira's voice, Goro's hand stalled on the doorknob as he reconsidered the proposition. He could politely tell Akira to go away and go back to bed... or he could let his curiosity get the best of him and let Akira in.

Opening the door, Goro took in Akira's appearance: messy hair and glasses, black blazer over a white shirt, and a faded pair of bluejeans. Of course, the plethora of boxes, containers, and cooking utensils obscured most of his torso, and Goro was left to gawk at the display.

Goro opened his mouth, closed it to gather his thoughts, and opened it once more. "You... didn't think to put all of that in a bag?"

Without missing a beat, Akira stepped inside and took off his shoes. "My bag smelled like cat, so I figured I could just carry it all."

If Goro hadn't thought Akira insane before, he surely was now. "So you carried," he gestured at the load of things in Akira's arms, " _all of that_... for the entire twenty minute train ride?"

The raven-haired boy placed all of his things down onto Goro's coffee table, and now that it was all laid out before him, Goro began to piece together what the supplies were for. "... You're baking a cake?"

"No," Akira turned to him, and his smirk screamed _Joker_ , " _we're_ baking a cake."

Goro stared at the boy in front of him. Blinked at the ex-Phantom Thieves leader, attempted to process the statement, _continued to blink_ _at him_ , and failed to piece together a logical explanation as to why Akira thought _baking a cake together_ was a good idea.

"Uh, Earth to Goro?" Akira waved a hand in front of the brunette's face, snapping him out of his thoughts. "This is fine, right? You're not going to kick me out?"

Shaking his head, Goro sputtered, "No! This is..." _not fine, but-_ "I don't _mind_ , but may I ask," he cocked an eyebrow and allowed his confusion to show on his features, "why? Last time I checked, there's no occasion today."

As if it were the simplest thing in the world, Akira shrugged and leveled the former Detective Prince with an expectant look. "Does there _need_ to be an occasion to bake a cake together?"

Goro had the audacity to look affronted. "Well, I _suppose_ not," he made his way to his coffee table to inspect the baking supplies laid out with a smidgen of curiosity. "Funfetti vanilla?" He picked up the box and turned it over in his hands. "... Are the sprinkles embedded into the cake?"

Sometime during his observation procedure, Akira had walked to stand beside him, silent as ever. "Thought it would be fun," he looked towards Goro out of the corner of his eyes. "Have you ever had this flavor before?"

Goro imagined that most children baked with their mothers at some point in their lives. Most children would smile and laugh while mixing batter, and their mothers would look down at their child with pride and joy radiating off them. Seeing as his mother... _wasn't around_ once he was seven, he supposed he wasn't most children.

"No," he admitted quietly, and Akira took the hint to not delve any deeper on the topic. "I've... never baked before, either."

Akira offered him an encouraging smile, slate gray eyes glinting in the late morning light. "Let's make your first baking experience memorable, then."

When Akira turned to scoop all of the supplies into his arms and walk towards the kitchen, Goro watched the boy's retreating back and thought, _it's already memorable, Akira_.

Smiling to himself, Goro followed Akira into the small kitchenette. All of his appliances were crammed against the walls and slotted adjacent to one another, and there was _still_ hardly any space for the two of them to fit in. The raven-haired boy dropped his armful onto the counter and began to arrange the supplies. Goro watched as Akira meticulously separated the pile into a box of cake mix, carton of eggs, bottles of milk and vegetable oil, a can of non-stick spray, the wooden cooking utensils, and a baking pan.

Wait. Goro re-evaluated the contents on the counter. "No way," he stepped closer, "you seriously carried a carton of _eggs._ And _an entire gallon of milk_. _Through Tokyo's subway system_."

Akira shrugged. "I didn't know if you had ingredients, so I came prepared." He began to open the box of cake mix. "Besides, it would be rude for me to barge into your apartment _and_ use what's in your fridge, wouldn't it?"

Ah yes, Goro should have known. Kurusu Akira, also known as Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves - drew the line of moral ambiguity at using his milk and eggs to bake a cake. Predictable, really.

Goro let out a sigh as he reached up into his cupboards to retrieve a large bowl. Truthfully, he didn't remember why he owned it, but it apparently came in handy for impromptu baking escapades. He slid it next to Akira, bumping into the boy's arm.

"Oh," Akira chuckled, "I knew I was forgetting something."

Goro's lips quirked up into a smile. "Ran out of hands?"

"Perhaps." The raven-haired boy held the plastic containing the cake mix, pinching the corners with his fingers. "Happen to own a pair of scissors?"

Goro slid open the drawer in front of him, snatching the scissors and handing them to Akira. " _Perhaps_ ," he said mockingly, eliciting a short laugh from the other boy.

"Thanks," Akira huffed, taking the scissors and snipping across the top of the plastic. He proceeded to dump the cake mix into the bowl, flicking at the bag to get the last granules out. "Oh yeah, can you preheat the oven to 175 degrees Celsius?"

"Sure," he nodded, and walked all of two steps to reach the oven. He never realized just how small and compact his kitchenette was until Akira shared the space with him. Reaching over the stove top, he turned the knob to 175°C and returned to Akira's side.

Akira turned to him, glasses glinting in the light. "Do you happen to have a measuring cup?" He wore a sheepish grin, and Goro sighed.

"You seriously should have brought a bag," he muttered but, nevertheless, produced a glass measuring cup from his cabinet. Once he placed it onto the counter, he crossed his arms and wistfully said, "Honestly, I wish I could have seen you on the train ride here. Would have made a great candid."

Akira hummed in response, focusing on measuring out vegetable oil. His tongue was stuck out in concentration, and Goro almost found the sight cute. Honestly, Goro was beginning to think Akira acted more like a cat than Morgana sometimes.

Once he was done pouring in the oil, he stepped to the sink and filled the cup with water. As he was dumping in the water, he asked, "Do you want to crack the eggs?"

Goro wondered what the best way to break the news to Akira that he had never cracked an egg before was. Probably to just tell it as it is, he realized on second thought.

He opened the carton and took an egg out, holding it gently between his fingers. "To be honest, I've never cracked an egg before." He met Akira's eyes and laughed quietly. "Surprising, I know."

Akira slid the cup across the counter and took an egg of his own. "Here, watch me."

Goro watched as the boy held the egg in two hands, pulled back slightly, and - _crack_. Akira pulled his hands back as if he were playing an invisible accordion, allowing the white and yellow yolk to slip out of the shell and into the measuring cup. Every action was telegraphed clearly and Goro felt confidence bubble up in his chest. He could do this.

After Akira poured the egg out into the bowl, he returned the cup to the former detective. Goro followed Akira's model, holding his hands above the rim of the cup. His fingers shook slightly as he pulled back. With much less grace, he slammed the shell against the glass and it cracked unevenly. Luckily, Goro was still able to release the yolk into the cup before it spilled out onto his counter.

"Hey, you did it!" Akira cheered, and the grin he wore gave Goro a warm feeling in his chest. "Here, I'll take care of the shells."

Goro handed Akira the cracked remains of his egg before dumping the cup into the mixing bowl. He then opened the carton to grab another one. "I've got the next one," he smiled, and cracked the egg with better precision. He turned to see Akira, and the boy had a dumb grin on his face.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy and carefree, Goro," he said, twisting a lock of unruly black hair in his hand.

Goro's hands stalled above the cup, fingers tightening imperceptibly on the broken shell halves. If he were still the Detective Prince maintaining a façade all the time, he would have strained a fake smile and choked out some empty pleasantry. Now, however, he realized that the smile he wore was completely genuine - _and it was over cracking an egg correctly_.

He breathed a laugh, handing the shell to Akira. "I never got to do this as a kid," he explained, still smiling lightly. "It's... quite fun."

"I'm really glad," Akira tilted his head slightly with a smile as he took the broken shell. "One more egg and we should be all set."

"On it!" Goro affirmed, taking one last egg from the carton and breaking it over the cup. In a familiar motion, he poured it into the mixing bowl and held the cup out to Akira. The ex-leader took the cup and filled it with water, placing it down into the sink.

Akira offered Goro a wooden spatula. "You wanna mix it?"

Goro, without missing a beat, snatched the utensil from Akira's grip. "Are you saying I can't?"

"Of course not," Akira stifled a laugh, turning around to start washing the contents of the sink. "I didn't think you would get competitive over _cake mixing_ , of all things."

Goro felt a blush creep up his neck as he began to stir through the mix. "Shut up," he rebutted weakly, but it lacked his usual bite. He held the bowl in one hand and steadily circled the spatula through the mixture, watching as the amalgamation of cake mix, water, vegetable oil, and eggs slowly shifted into a white color. Even in the weird in-between stage, he could make out the funfetti sprinkles embedded in the mix.

Hearing a spraying sound, Goro turned around to see Akira spraying something into the baking pan. "What are you doing?"

Akira shook the bottle, turning the pan in his hand to hit another angle. "Non-stick spray. It makes cutting the cake out a lot easier."

"Oh, that makes sense," he hummed, returning to the bowl in his hands. The texture was smoother now, and he could no longer pick out the individual ingredients. "Akira, is this good?"

The boy walked over and inspected the contents. Without precedent, he stuck his finger along the side of the bowl, swiped up some cake batter, and put it in his mouth. "Tastes good," he said nonchalantly.

Goro blinked at the boy and felt scandalized. "Um," he began eloquently, "A-Aren't you _not_ supposed to do that?"

Akira shrugged. "It's called taste testing," he took the bowl from Goro and brandished it in front of the brunette. "Here, try it."

Hesitantly, Goro reached a finger to the edge of the bowl and copied Akira. Tasting the sweetness of the batter, Goro nearly went back for a second helping. "It's really quite good."

"Well, if the sweets connisseur says so, I'm obliged to believe it." Akira's smirk caused Goro to scoff. "Help me pour the batter into the pan, would you?"

With a roll of his eyes, Goro grabbed the pan from its spot half-dangling off the sink and brought it to the counter. Akira tilted the bowl, the white mixture cascading down into the pan, and Goro used the spatula to push the batter out. Once the bowl was empty aside from the stubborn batter stuck to the sides, they placed it down. Akira took the pan and tilted it, allowing the batter to fill the pan evenly.

As if on cue, the oven _beeped_ in confirmation that it was done preheating. Akira turned to Goro and asked, "do you happen to have oven mitts?"

Goro sighed. "I _really_ wish you brought a bag."

"I'll take that as a _no_ , then?" Akira grinned sheepishly, grabbing the foldable handles of the pan. "Ann's fire is hotter, I'm sure I'll manage."

The brunette shot him a skeptical look. "Ann's burned you before?"

Akira met Goro's gaze and deadpanned, "We wanted to test if friendly fire was toggled."

Goro pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to take a breath. "It _baffles_ me that you were able to survive Kamoshida's palace."

"We had each other," he said, exuding the confidence he reserved for Joker, "that's all."

Recomposing himself, Goro exhaled and opened the oven door. "The power of friendship, huh?"

Akira carefully slid the pan into the oven and closed the door. "Believe it or not, yeah."

Goro watched silently as the raven-haired boy inspected the cake mix box for the bake time and set the time on the stove. Kurusu Akira was an enigma - he was the calm before the storm, the tornado itself, and the quiet after.

"Well," Akira cut in, and Goro blinked his thoughts away, "how about we watch a movie while it bakes?"

Goro felt a smirk tug at his lips. "Have you ever seen _Star Wars_?"

Akira, who had seen every movie of the series at least twice, shook his head. "Nope. Care to enlighten me, Detective-kun?"

"Don't call me that," Goro weakly swatted at Akira, earning a laugh from the thief. Nevertheless, he led the way to the living room, fished out an old VHS tape, and set up the movie.

Half an hour into _The Phantom Menace_ , the oven _beeped_ again. This time, Akira used bundles of paper towels to grab the pan handles, and he placed the cake onto the stove top. When Goro asked about eating it, Akira insisted that they would need to wait for it to cool down before cutting it.

About an hour and a half later of Goro's commentary over the movie, Akira decided that the cake should be cool enough to cut out of the pan. (Akira also decided that many of Goro's opinions on _Star Wars_ were controversial and would get him massively downvoted on any internet thread.)

Goro watched as Akira meticulously ran the knife alongside the pan edges before cutting the cake into smaller squares. Without being prompted, he grabbed two plates from his cupboards and brandished them in front of the other boy. Akira carefully moved the cake slices to the plates, and left the knife in the empty space of the pan.

Akira took one of the plates and purred in an awful French accent, " _Bon Appétit_ , _Monsieur Akechi_."

Goro barked out a laugh as he retrieved two forks from one of his drawers. "Here," he handed Akira one of the forks and they headed back to the living room.

"On three?" Akira asked once they were seated. He cut into his cake and held his fork in front of his mouth.

Goro's eyes widened in realization and he hurried to cut into his cake as well. Once his fork was poised in front of his mouth, Akira began to count. "One... two..."

"Three!" Goro excitedly slid his fork into his mouth and took a bite. The cake tasted like eating a cloud made of the sweetest sugar, and he immediately cut into another piece.

"That good?" Akira asked between snickers, cutting into his own piece.

The brunette nodded, bright smile growing on his face. "It would be better with Leblanc coffee, but that's just me being petulant."

"Oh," Akira hummed around a piece of cake in his mouth. "Next time."

 _Next time_. Warmth swelled in Goro's chest and all rational thought flew out the window. _There was going to be a next time_.

Goro took another bite as he reached for the remote, starting up _Attack of the Clones_. Turning his head to meet Akira's gaze, he smiled. "I can't wait."

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Zeiskyte)!


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